


Serenity. Courage. Wisdom.

by Project0506



Series: Soft Wars [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clones, Gen, Kix might be the mom, Rex is everyone's dad, Some Humor, extremely briefly implied angst, gen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:20:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23423080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506
Summary: “Grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can and Wisdom to know the difference.”Rex has never needed a ‘prayer circle’ before in his life.  Somehow, Kix gets the distinct impression he’s not about to start now.  Oya Torrent!
Relationships: CT-6116 | Kix & CT-7567 | Rex, CT-7567 | Rex & Torrent Company
Series: Soft Wars [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1683775
Comments: 44
Kudos: 981





	Serenity. Courage. Wisdom.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit 25/4/2020: If you look at no other art today please look at [this one](https://dragneel-twins.tumblr.com/post/616413375641124864/ehehehehehehehe-you-gave-me-too-much-powerrrrr) that Echo of [@dragneel-twins](https://dragneel-twins.tumblr.com/) did for this story. It is absolutely perfect. Did you want to see what Rex's 'Hold My Beer' smile looks like? This is it.
> 
> I have a list of prompts I have made for myself. I sat down to write one, determined to knock that list down as soon as possible. This... this is not one of those prompts. So at the end of this writing exercise, I now have the same number of prompts I started with.
> 
> No. I actually have more, because there are two more parts to this story. At least. Maybe three. What have I done.
> 
> Mando'a translations are included in the end notes, with links to take you back to where you were. Mando'a definitions from [mandoa.org](http://mandoa.org/).
> 
> I used [this page](https://archiveofourown.org/faq/formatting-content-on-ao3-with-html?language_id=en#htmlanchorlink) to do the links.

Kix turns off the sonics just in time to hear Hardcase make that one noise of admiration that precedes general mayhem. Well damn. They’ve only been on planet for 12 hours and six of those were spent asleep. This might be a record.

“Is that the hold my beer look? Why does the captain have the hold my beer look?” Hardcase calls. “Captain why do you have the hold my beer look? Are we gonna do something fun?” There’s a loaded pause. “Okay no that’s not a fun look, on second thought maybe I shouldn’t volunteer sir.”

Kix digs an emergency med pack from under the sink behind the cleaners, where no brother ever bothers to go. Torrent’s been a company for a pair of ten-days, and already Kix has developed a habit of stashing a kit in every room of their living spaces, no matter how temporary. There’s a DC7 holstered in the ridges of in this one, but only the loaded power cell with no spares. He clicks his teeth. Oversight.

(Kix’s a medic, but he’s also practical. No need to stitch a brother closed if you’ve already shot whatever would have cut him open in the first place. Simple logic.)

No one’s hollering yet, so Kix feels comfortable he at least has enough time to get pants on. Probably not enough to armor up though, not if Captain Rex is wearing the face Kix suspects he’s wearing. He slings a damp towel around his neck where the sonics always leave him itchy after a shave, slings his pack cross body so the blaster’s sitting under his draw hand, and feels ready to face whatever it was his captain is fixing to drag them into.

“Call me old fashioned,” Kix calls back, “but I’ve always felt that if a commanding officer asks you to hold his beer, your only response is ‘yes, sir’. Maybe offer to fetch him a tray of sumptuous nibbles to go with it.” He strolls out into the main barracks, clocks the face Rex is making and stops dead. “Okay,” he grants Hardcase. “I see what you mean. I’m going to need a proper kit for this.”

Rex’s teeth audibly grind before he visibly forces himself to stop. He breathes very, very slowly in through the nose and out through the mouth. Aw, classic frustration management exercise. Kix is so dang proud of him.

“As you were,” Rex grits and very carefully does not stomp to his bunk.

“Are we brawling? Is it the Wolfpack? Cuz fuck those guys,” Hardcase continues, ever loyal and so deeply mired in squad pride they’ll never pry him out. “I’ll hold em down for you sir. Jesse wake up we’re brawling.”

“Left my club on the ship captain,” Jesse responds immediately from face down on the lower bunk closest to the fresher door. “Permission to deface Jedi furniture to replace it?”

Rex doesn’t bother to reply. Jesse doesn’t bother to move. Kix gives Jesse a loving punch right above the ankle as he passes and smirks at the beautiful music of his cussing.

Kix pads over to where Rex is practicing looking busy and doing an admirable job of it. He’s unloading and checking his gear, and if Kix hadn’t known he’d done all that two hours ago he might have even be fooled. He falls into an easy parade rest next to Rex’s right elbow. “Sir,” he says, and waits.

The corners of Rex’s eyes crinkle in amusement, almost reluctantly. He knows this game, and he knows no matter how much of a taciturn bastard he pretends to be in front of the brass, Kix will get everything out of him sooner or later.

(Torrent’s only been a company for two ten-days but this is one truth every man’s learned: The Medic always wins. Always.)

“Got our assignment,” Rex eventually caves, pointlessly because that’s the entire reason they’re even on Coruscant. To get assigned their Jedi, then roll out for their first official shakedown operation as an actual no-kidding company. “Our General is Skywalker. I’m sure you’ll hear about him. From everyone.”

Okay, there’s a lot to unpack there. But with only an incredibly even, mild tone and a complete lack of change in facial expression, the captain isn’t giving him a lot to go off.

It’s still enough for even Hardcase to pick up that something’s especially wrong. “Is he… is he a bad one?”

“It shouldn’t matter,” Rex dismisses with false casualness. “He’s Torrent’s Jedi, whatever he is we’ll adapt.”

“Yeah but still,” Hardcase persists. He’s not really very good at knowing when to back off, but this time Kix lets him barrel ahead. There’s something there; something’s picking at the edges of Kix’s subconscious and he thinks he almost has a grip on it if only had a little more push. “Is he a bad one?”

“I haven’t met him,” Rex says. He seems abnormally focused on positioning ammunition in his kit for most efficient reloading. “I have literally never seen or spoken to him.” Almost, Kix thinks. Almost. “But I have been reliably informed by no less than _eight_ other Jedi, most of which I have never seen before today, that our Jedi is impulsive, reckless, hard-headed, ill-disciplined, unconventional, inexperienced but possessing enough bluster to distract from such, among a host of other stunningly less complimentary descriptions.” Rex has the remarkable skill of being able to avoid eye contact without appearing as if that was the intent. “We have all of their sympathies, by the way.”

“Uh,” Hardcase tries. “He sounds -”

“Shiny,” Kix cuts in. “He sounds shiny.” ‘Our Jedi’, he thinks, that’s where the sticking point is.

Hardcase shifts, uncomfortable, and doesn’t glance at his assigned storage rack hugging the wall between the two sets of minimalist bunks. “Is that really that bad?” he asks, in the smallest voice Kix thinks he’s ever heard from him.

Hardcase’s armor stands out, the only one shining pristine white among their set of four. He hadn’t been on Geonosis, Kix suddenly recalls. He hasn’t been much of anywhere yet.

“It isn’t,” Rex says firmly, and he’s a bit like the Coruscant Guard Commander like that: when he says something, you can’t help but believe him a little. “It’s nothing but a lack of time and opportunity, something that will sort itself out eventually. There is absolutely no call to treat it like-”

The chime of an incoming call interrupts him.

“... a defect.” He slips his bracer on and keys on the embedded voice comm. “Rex, go ahead.”

“Thought you might want a heads-up vod.”

To Kix, the brother on the line sounds perfectly pleasant; friendly and familiar in the way of batchmates, or nearly. The captain, however, seems to know something Kix doesn’t. It’s almost fascinating, the way you can practically see his hackles go up.

“Cody,” he says, slow and warning. “Whatever you’re up to -”

“I’m not up to anything!” Commander Cody protests. Kix can’t hear the lie, but it’s clear Rex can. He groans and on the far side, the commander laughs. “I just thought you’d want to know. My general will be accompanying yours on your first maneuvers. Keep an eye on him for me, would you? And … good luck. I’ll run up a prayer circle for you.”

“I don’t know what game you’re playing,” Rex says, his voice a study in fraternal retribution. “But I will find out. And when I do you’d better _be praying_ the entire sep army is between me and you to give you enough of a head start.”

“You sound tense, Rex’ika. Maybe you-”

Rex closes the connection. He breathes. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Again. Kix holds parade rest and Hardcase tries fruitlessly not to fidget.

“Fuck the commander too,” Hardcase offers tentatively. “I’ll slow him down and you can punch him.” Kix pats his shoulder. It’s good he’s starting to be more realistic about his skills. Personal growth. Kix is dang proud of him too.

“So if I’m reading this right,” Jesse cuts in, voice clear even though he still hasn’t moved from face down on his bunk. “The Commander bought himself a Jedi and got a spare one free, and he’s donating it to us.” Offense spikes steel up Rex’s spine and he snaps to his full height, face calm but eyes shooting murder at their scout. Unknowing, or much more likely completely uncaring of the mood, Jesse pushes on. “Which of course has the added benefit of providing a built in babysitter for our Jedi when we have a mission folks think he’s too shiny to lead.”

Jesse finally rolls to face them and props his head up on one fist. The look in his eyes, Kix realizes, is a great deal like the one the captain walked in with.

“So what do you think vod? A discount-price Jedi in charge of a company of scraps. I think it fits.”

There’s not a single member of Torrent who’s serving with any member of their cadet squad. Their stories were uniformly tragedy, and they’ve been flung together more for the fact that the GAR needed someplace to store the remnants where they’d still be useful.

No one expects too much of them. They weren’t trained together, not decanted together and optimized for efficiency. Their commanding officer only has partial CC training, and only that because actual CCs thought he was adorable and half adopted him. Torrent is expected to hit hard and burn out fast, someone had told Kix when he’d first been assigned, trying to warn him that he’s mostly there on principle and isn’t really expected to be able to save them.

It’s been two ten-days since these brothers were assigned to Torrent company to die and promptly ignored. Two ten-days since a CT captain decided fuck that, and force-fed nearly a hundred and fifty mismatched vode1 a heaving helping of aliit2 through sheer bull-headed force of will. There haven’t been any trainers, neither Kaminose3 or Mando’ade4, monitoring their company’s forming. They left Rex full control. Kix doesn’t think anyone’s aware of just what he’s done with it.

The GAR, Kix thinks, very likely didn’t know what it was buying with Captain Rex.

“I think,” Rex says, thoughtful, “that might be the only type of Jedi that would fit. Even if we might have to do a bit of prep work to adjust.” Jesse smirks and taps his forehead in acknowledgment. Hardcase whoops, unable to contain himself any longer. Torrent _has a Jedi!_

Kix groans. “You can’t adopt our Jedi, captain.” There it is, there it is. At ‘our Jedi’, Rex smiles, a tiny thing barely hiding at the edge of his lips but still radiating deep satisfaction.

“You think so?” Rex always did have a soft spot for shinies. This one, Kix realizes with resigned amusement, The Medic is probably going to lose.

“I think the combined conventional wisdom of the Jedi Order probably thinks so.”

“We’ll see.” Rex grins. It’s a hold my beer grin.

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Brothers. Back  
> 2\. Clan, family, identity. Back  
> 3\. Kaminoan people. Back  
> 4\. Mandalorians. Back  
> 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Ever Inspire](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23574658) by [Project0506](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Project0506/pseuds/Project0506)
  * [In Loco Parentis](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23825122) by [Chess_Blackfyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chess_Blackfyre/pseuds/Chess_Blackfyre)
  * [[PODFIC] Serenity. Courage. Wisdom.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25413331) by [lalabob11](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalabob11/pseuds/lalabob11)




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